Chasing The Moon
by flashpenguin
Summary: As Dave prepares himself to say his good-byes, he reflects back on partnering with Emily and what she meant to him. Third in the "Bluer Than Blue Series".


_**Third in the "Bluer Than Blue Series" and follows "Vole" and "Tonight I Wanna Cry". As he readies himself to say good-bye, Dave looks back on partnering with Emily and the moment he fell in love with her, and how he let her slip thru his fingers.**_

_**I don't own Criminal Minds.**_

_**Song prompt: "Chasing The Moon" by Tamara Champlin**_

**Chasing The Moon**

Dave Rossi stood in front of the full length mirror and adjusted his black tie. Pulling on his custom tailored coat, he paused as a feeling of déjà vu came over him. _Where had he seen this before? _he wondered. Slowly it dawned on him: the afternoon he went in for his meeting with Strauss when he announced his plans to come out of retirement. The day before he met the team…the day before he met Emily Prentiss.

Taking off the coat, he hung it up on the hook beside the mirror and walked over to the window. Looking out at the sun breaking thru the thick grey clouds, he sighed. It had been a long night of tossing and turning without a moment of rest. So he figured he'd get ready to greet the day that would match his mood. But that never came into fruition.

Of all the days for the sun to be shining… If only he could script the moment he would keep the clouds, minus the sun, and add the drizzle that filled his heart. It wasn't fair that inside, he was drowning while outside everything continued without a care.

Sitting down in the high back chair, he rested his chin against his fist. How many times had he looked out this particular window searching for an answer after his last two marriages failed? Or after the two of the worst cases he ever experienced? Or the nights when he couldn't sleep and sat looking at the stars - like last night?

Once again, his eyes searched the morning sky but he knew that there were going to be no answers in the clouds. No answer to ease the ache in his heart. Dammit! He was a writer; he wrote intense crime novels and interrogation technique manuals - he should be able to find an answer to ease the ache in his soul.

The questions were easy: Why? How had it happened? How had he let his guard down for five seconds and let the moment happen? Why hadn't he paid better attention to his surroundings? Why had he let her walk in first?

_Get it together, Dave! You've been over this a thousand times and there was no way to know that the team was walking into an ambush. Reid had profiled two UNSUBs and there was no reason to doubt that summation with the evidence on hand. And you didn't let her walk in first; she was doing what had been done a hundred times before._

But that hundred and one time was what got her killed. And it was his fault.

Closing his eyes against the sudden rush of tears, he tried to forget the moment of the gun going off. The sharp pop of a high caliber gun then the dull thud of the bullet hitting its target. He had made sure that the shooter would never hurt anyone ever again, but it was too late to save his partner.

His beautiful, raven haired, no nonsense partner who captured his attention from the moment he laid eyes on her in the BAU bullpen. Yes, he had come back to catch bad guys, but that didn't stop his imagination as his eyes roamed her from head to toe. Beautiful, sharp, with legs that went on for miles…he had almost forgotten about the bad guys.

If he hadn't made a promise to himself that it was about his cold case, he would have chased after her faster than a hound on a rabbit. But she made it clear that she wasn't interested in a relationship…or at least she made that clear after he chastised her for letting personal problems get in the way of the job. God! What he would give to go back and retract his comment.

She had made an innocent remark and tried to follow it up with an apology only to have her apology thrown back in her face. It was no wonder she shied away from him after that. He would have done the same. As her attitude toward him chilled, he found himself returning in kind…especially when she stuck her nose into his cold case and demanded that he let go of his pride and let the team help.

The air was definitely electrified between them as each took a respective corner - until she and Reid were taken hostage at the compound.

While others wanted to storm the building and rescue everyone, he did what he could to hold them back. He trusted her judgment and ability to make sure no one was harmed. Of course, listening to her get beat up by a misogynistic bastard to protect her co-worker tore him up inside, but it increased his admiration of her. She had the moment under control and would do what she could until help arrived. She was the reason for the success of the raid.

Nevertheless, she remained distant toward him. Until her world started falling apart following the death of her childhood friend. He never understood what prompted him to get her out of the building to a secure location to talk, but he knew she had a secret that was pertinent to the case and he had to find out what it was. Deep down inside, he had his suspicions - he just needed to hear it from her.

Father Jimmy ordered that he take care of Emily, so when everyone from Morgan to Hotch had turned their back on her, he took that order to heart. Everyone was walking on eggshells around the brass, but he'd been around far too long to worry about stepping on toes or causing waves. Murder was murder and to say that "Diplomatic Immunity" excused it was bullshit in his book. He didn't care if an UNSUB wore a t-shirt or a collar; a scumbag was a scumbag. Emily had been just trying to do her job

Watching her stare up at the sky, after the case was closed, he felt his heart jump. She seemed so alone, so small, and the snow falling around her made her seem almost ethereal. He asked if he could give her a ride and walked away with a quip and a smile when she begged off. But he had followed her.

Standing off in the distance, he had watched as she stood in silence for a long time. It had taken everything not to drag her into a warm room. But he hadn't. He would never violate her trust by letting on that he was spying on her. Or that he cared.

Lying in bed that night, he reflected on all they had gone thru up until that night, and it dawned on him that he was falling in love with her. It had happened when he least expected it and now there was no avoiding it. She had haunted his dreams that night so thoroughly that it had taken a moment to realize she had not been in his bed. There was no denying that he had it bad.

For the first time in his life he was tripping over himself whenever she was around. He admired her spunk and sense of duty. When she went out of her way to protect Hotch and the team when Strauss and others made it their mission to destroy the BAU, he was no longer falling: he was 100% in love.

She was unlike any other woman he'd ever known. She could stand toe to toe with him and call him on the carpet when he stepped over the line - like when he "Emily'd" her during an investigation. Swallowing his pride, he apologized. In the end she admitted they had both jumped to conclusions and that their job sucked. He had to agree.

They were more alike than he had acknowledged…or maybe deep down inside he had known. Maybe that was why he'd pushed and aggravated her more than any other agent he had ever worked with. All of his life he had looked for the one woman who could stand her own with him on his turf and not shy away when rubber met the road.

After three failed marriages and numerous relationships, who would have guessed that he would have found "the one" in his partner? Was he blind? Or was he jaded? Hotch was jaded, and he wanted to think that he was better than that, but deep down inside, he was just as gun-shy when it came to taking another chance and risking it all.

He could still see her doe-shaped brown eyes dancing with humour and hear the lingering sound of her laughter in his ears. His remembered the wonderful way her shirts molded to her beautiful figure and how her perfume weaved around him and filled his senses with promises that would never be fulfilled. So many times he had come close to kissing her, and now he would never know the feel of her lips under his. Damn his sense of duty to do the right thing.

Opening his eyes, he watched as the sky became brighter as the sun rose higher. They were burying Emily in three hours. They were coming to say their good-byes. But he couldn't. How could he say good-bye when he just realized that he had made so many mistakes he had never apologized for? Besides, any good writer would tell you that good-bye was not how you ended a story.

Standing up, he reached for his coat and slipped it on. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself. No one was going to see the great David Rossi cry - but as long as he was in the privacy of his home, he could let the tears fall freely.

And tonight, after he had said his good-byes, he would sit in that chair and stare out the window and if memories came and got him, he wouldn't say no. Of course he would only be chasing the moon, but for once, he didn't mind.


End file.
